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Harry Trumbull Sutton 









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The Temptation 



Or 



The Man Unpurchasable 

By 

Harry Trumbull Sutton 

Head, School of Eloquence 
Cotner University 



Press jf 

H. E. Wetherell Company 

Bethany, Nebraska 

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Copyright, 1906, 

BY 

Harry Trumbull Sutton 



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Price 50 cents 



With profoundest respect 

This poem 

Is dedicated 

To 

A man who knew the right and did it; 

Who never gave his sons the slightest intimation 

That mmiey could buy men; 

One of earth's strong middle men; 

Who ever set her right 

And save her; 

One whose conscience this proud century 

Well might hold, 

At once its model 

And its grandest goal. 



AN APPRECIATION 

The reign of deductive philosophy is ended. Scholastic 
interpretation of the Bible is passing away. The grip of 
traditionalism is broken. The commercial conception of the 
atonement is even submitting to a post mortem examination. 
In the passing of these things the life of Jesus has come to 
have a new and augmented value. 

There is no rational and therefore no safe interpretation of 
the Bible except along the lines of personal experience. 
Within the last quarter of a century both biology and psy- 
chology have led us to the heights whence we can watch 
God work. And we are beginning to sense Jesus' meaning 
when he said: "My Father worketh hitherto even until now, 
and I work." 

The philosophy of history is giving place to the psychology 
of history. We are more concerned about men's thoughts 
than their deeds; and we are strenuously searching for the 
motives apparent that prompted their deeds. 

The most successful interpreter of Jesus' life is he who 
can come the nearest to seeing and feeling and thinking and 
living in absolute harmony with Him. 

It is through this avenue that Professor Sutton would 
approach the Temptation of Jesus. He would not bring 
Jesus down to us but he would lead us up to Him. As we 
read the poem he compels us to feel with Him and struggle 
with Him through His fearful battle. And as we so feel 
and struggle we are conscious of our falling at every attack 
while the Master conquers and marches on. When the 
reading is finished we reverently drop to our knees saying, 
I do believe that He is my only Savior. 
5 



An Appreciation 



To be appreciated fully this poem must be studied. A 
cursory reading will not bring one's heart en rapport with 
the author's. 

Professor Sutton sees that the life of Jesus is as effica- 
cious in the Scriptural sense of the atonement as His death. 
He sees Jesus struggling and agonizing and conquering in 
order to change man's heart rather than the heart of God. 
This above all messages is the one the world needs today— 
that men must not violate their spiritual selves; that they 
can be and must be true to conscience. 

The message of the poem is forcefully told. It deserves 
a careful study. Every line provokes thought. Almost 
every word is big with meaning. The author could scarcely 
have used fewer words in telling this message. He has 
seen with the vision of a true poet, and finds in our Lord 
and Master what the moral philosopher posits as the final 
cause in moral evolution. 

I can not refrain from calling the reader's attention to 
Professor Sutton's conception of Jesus' temptation as being 
wholly subjective. He makes us feel that the difference be- 
tween Jesus' temptation and ours is not of kind but of de- 
gree. As Jesus is the ultimate of all spiritual evolution, so 
also, is His temptation inclusive of all temptation that will 
ever come to any individual or to the whole race. There- 
fore he brings us a rational interpretation of the Hebrew 
writer's saying: "He was tempted in all points like unto us 
(f,nd yet without sin. ' ' 

I pray for this splendid poem a careful and reverent read- 
ing. 

James K. Shellenberger. 

Wooster, Ohio, April 16, 1906. 

6 



THE TEMPTATION 



PRELUDE 



0, Earth! Earth! 
(Thou strangely seeming Earth! 
Strange, with thy grey woes and full limbed hope; 
Strange, there holding as 'twere childish dear, 
The chalice of thy groans. 
And laughing at its dreggy bitterness.) 

Earth! 0, Earth! Come hither unto me. 
'Tis well and thanks to thee. 

But go I pray, dismiss those El Dorado suitors and return; 
Now thanks again; come, sit thee here and listen. 

Oh! listen Earth, 
To an event whose issue. 
Held thy very life; thine all of honor. 

Dost turn surprisedly? 
'Tis true; thy fate, Earth, smoothed into fortune, 
As smoothes the night to blessed day, 
—And thou wert saved— 
Because of one lone man. 

As a babe may smile within its untouched cradle, 

7 



The Temptation 



While savagry makes horrid war on stout defending hearts, 

So thou, but babe-like knew the day, the hour, 

Wherein the legions of two unseen worlds 

Rushed into battle upon one man's heart 

And fought there for mastery evermore; 

Contended for thy conscience, Earth; 

For thy very sense of truth; thine instinct of the spiritual. 

0, 'twas terrible! 
The headlong hosts of the wanton world, redmailed with lust. 
Called thee, O Earth, their victim 'mid their yelling sorties, 
And railed it out that you were fit 

For any heinous treatment— should be slave to Mammon. 
How it might have gone I dare not even think; 
—The eventide wept and God was grave—; 
But the man himself then flung his bravest soul 
Before the staggering champions of thy virtue; 
Imparted to them life an hundred times; 
Swept the writhing battle ways aback, 
And, before the discomfited foe, 
He reared the impassable bulwai'k of his presence. 
He did not fail thee. Earth. Had he— but I forbear. 
'Twould be the story of thy ruin; thy long, long, sure de- 
clining. 
And the gianthood of every monster. 



Then thou'dst hear this hero tale? 
'Tis best and thou art blest therein. 
The while I tell thee— how poorly—! 
Bid thy swift fingers (or need they prompting) 



The Temptation 



Bid them weave some rich and wreathy crown for him: 

A crown whose living gems must be 

The pearly buds of luster-soul; 

Whose round length thou'lt deeply twine throughout 

With doubled sprigs of amaranthine gratitude. 

But ere I do begin or can begin, 

Wilt thou aid me in my prayer: 

God, 

Tuner of worlds! 

And Master of that Eden clime 

From whence all songs arise! 
0, do thou chord my soul with his; 
O, do thou grant my harp one hour's life; 
That his high heart and epic courage, 
Strike their battle notes upon it, 
And fling them into the wide air. 
So make my song unconscious of mortality. 

Thou Chief est Spirit! breathing life abroad, 

And not content but with sublimity, 

O sweep my strings! 

bear their low and usual thrumming 

To a fitting loftiness. 

Grant their song devout may even be 

As the far clear echo of Throne-like lyres. 

Master built and chanting God-great victories. 

—Victories won by manhood, bared to death, 

'Gainst the articulate and shrewdly damning lust 

Of power, pleasure and vulgar riches. 

Nor selfishly would I pray this prayer, 
9 



The Temptation 



O Thoa greater than the Muses ! 
But that good Earth may deeply sense 
Within my notes thus reinforced 
The irresistible undertone of truth. 



10 



HIS CONSECRATION 



Alone, apart from pressing multitudes 
He stood upon the Jordan's double bank, 
And heard the prophet, desert-holy, speak; 
From visions embossed on the unstained air; 
From long fasts and then starvation; 
From unslept nights and sternest prayers; 
From groans upon the ground; 
From grief too iron like for tears; 
From a heart where lions made their lair. 
The prophet spoke; 
His voice, a nation's voice; wrought of agonies. 

He jarred loose words; 
Their craggy thunders shook; 
Words silent by the grant of centuries. 
Nay, dead, woke suddenly into life to scare the lazy age, 
Like lost and dreaded spirits, 
Fright us face to face. 
Such words fall not from lips. 
They leap— sword of what a spirit— ! 

Breath of righteousness; VOICE; detached from all but God. 
And the thousands were rent and overcome, 
As the rushes on the bank 
Were swayed and shaken by the winds 
That vaulting o'er the river, grappled with them. 
But know thou, Earth, he calmed beneath the words, 

11 



The Temptation 



The doom-like terror of the words, "Repent! Repent!" 

The publican, the soldier, the common folk, 

—The wicked, the cruel, the faithless— 

All hurried with this question, 

"What must I do?" 

And sealed his sincerity, each. 

By a bold plunge beneath the tide. 

The question pierced him too, 

(For whom would it not startle)? 
But not with poignancy. 

"What must I do; must I?" 
He repeated with such earnestness 
As rears a solitude; 

Down dropped the sky round him alone, 
Wide walls, and strong; 

The fiercening sun, the crowds, the lightning voice 
Attacked him not. 

But one thing had power or presence 
Within this gateless quiet. 
'What must I do?' there stood before him 
Like a wrestler, come on a purpose, 
And thewed by many a field. 
Whereon now lay in wreck some big antagonists. 

"WHAT MUST I DO?" 
And 'mid his arduous inward searchings 
Came glimpses of older days and scenes. 
Grave with portents and insistent prophesyings. 
Egypt he saw in the twilight of an infant's memory; 

12 



The Temptation 



He heard the frightened whisper of his parents; 

Ref elt his first deep sense that something must be wrong. 

Quickly he measured in his mind the way to Galilee, 
And brooded over Nazareth : 
His mother calm and sweet and grand 
—One tutored by Jehovah—; 
His cottage home— its busy circle; 
The shop, where, unknown to Joseph, 
He used to hear high voices; 
The oak tree where out-topping all, the blackbird 
Dared the world to stop his song; 
The garden o'er whose wall the thrushes turned; 
All these came back in this tense hour, 
0, more real than ever. 

The hills that threw themselves around the village, 
Purlieus of purpling white suggesting worship. 
Ah, how he loved them! 
And the dewy plain of Esdraelon. 
Once more he climbed the heights behind the town 
With boyish troop; 
(As one lad gathered stones and raised his arm 

Against a sparrow's life 
He promptly faced him with demands 
Most illy suited to a wanton mood; 
But the stone fell harmless. 
Then calling out he was no boy of stuff, 
They ran on up the hill, 
Leaving him to follow slowly, 
Seeing a hundred things they tram.pled over.) 

13 



The Temptation 



The hill-top gained the soul took flight; 

To west huge ridges showed to far off Carmel; 

Beyond the mount the great sea flashed, 

Rolling its lordly glories in the sun 

As tho' it bore a thousand golden fleets. 

He thought how far the sea leagues ran. 

And how the fleets 

All dashed their gold, upon the footstool 

Of a hated throne. 

The sudden cries of those in his advance, 
Startled him. (And their wild beck'nings 
Were to one on whom at last they would rely.) 
Hast'ning to the opposing hill, he looked. 
What wonder their alarm 
Scarce chained their anger! 
O'er the mile of intervening valley, 
Upon a slope where yesterday a village lived. 
They saw rank blackness and rising smoke; 
The Roman soldiers!— iron hand of the hated throne- 
Had fallen upon their uncles' village; 
It had been death. 

The others ran to spread the dread intelligence, 
But he stood thinking on the scene, measuring its meaning, 
For it cried to him. 

He had found his village as he knew he would, 
Agitated and grieving. 
No deeds were dared, but 0, the words! 
Hate incoherent and stormy grief; 
Fierce prayer to God and repeating of hoarse vows; 

14 



The Temptation 



Women wailing; men drawn with apprehension; 

Gnashing of teeth, and low gutturals, 

Not unlike the curdling whettings of a sword. 

The imprecations gurgled into silence 

When horsemen, clanking in armor, 

With loud laughter and pagan oaths 

Halted at the village well; 

Galloping off they thundered o'er a man, 

And trampled him to death, 

A villager coming from afield. 

Such things now crowded on his mind 

As the question stood before him, 

"What must I do?" 

He remembered how old men had halted him, 

To ask, as of one endowed, 

"How long? 0, son of Joseph, how long?" 

At the solemn evening meal 

The family, with unused freedom. 

Whispered among themselves: 

"The Rabbis say, 'When Messiah cometh He will kill the 

Roman, ' 
And in the synagogue they prayed He might come quickly;" 
This last had been more awesome to him than the day. 



Again the joying throngs around him stood, 
As he beheld with weeping. 
The august glories of his nation's sanctuary. 
How it had come upon him then, 
That he would die for these most sacred things! 
Again he saw the millions camped about the city; 

15 



The Temptation 



Shared their ardent patriotism. 

He felt again the subduing hallowedness of the Temple: 
The morning psalm, the chanting trumpets; 
The cloudy incense, the white robed priests; 
The bleating sheep; the broad steps running blood: 
—The worship of a holy nation- 
He remembered how amid it all, 
Most impiously. 

The Roman trump had blared from castled hill, 
And how had mailed cavalry swung out 
To beat down zealous citizens; 
—To remind Jerusalem, 

That Zion's rule was held by a heathen king. 
He had tingled with the bitterness of his people. 
It seemed almost that Zion's hate 
Was the righteous zeal of God. 
At night when feverish the city slept 
He had sat alone and troubled; 
He knew that violence— a joy of slaughter- 
Was only staunched by word passed round from lip to lip; 
"When He shall come, we'll be avenged. Wait." 

The nation rested on that word. He knew it. 

"Disappoint them! Shall I, must I?" 

And in the pause the wrestler 

Took a prompt stride nearer. 

Gazed a moment on the face 

That met him, now, in triumph; 

Met him, and forced him back o'er-awed 

By the simple purity therein. 

O, he had faced this very question oft before. 

16 



The Temptation 



Had it not been his grief and his perplexity 

Within the closet copse of the downward brook 

Where the murm'ring turtle sighed and sighed 

Against the quickly coming night? 

For here had been his oft retreat; 

Here had he often prayed, yea, supplicated; 

—Thy dream-pains, suffering through the winds 

Unto his ear, Earth— 

Here had he prayed those big. 

And giant-earnest prayers 

Such as Jehovah loves; they cheer Him. 

And in these prayers, infolded, deep divinity 

Had felt the kiss of God upon his lips, 

As they had uttered final words : 

"About my Father's business." 

He had always quit these prayers, soul poised and certain, 

Like the heavy, steady stars above him, 

—The unswerving watchmen of the night. 

Those conquering hours helped him now; 

Across the tumult of his mind their memory poured 

Like Sabbath chimes which call us unto God. 

He started; all was clear. 
The walls that hemmed him to himself flew up, 
And grateful duty stood where before the wrestler. 

"Follow," was the word; 

"Most gladly." 

And he strode adown the sloping banks 
T 'wards the preacher of repentance. 
The Baptizer saw him coming, 
And herald-like, apprized the multitudes: 

17 



The Temptation 



"Behold a man of God!" 
He heard profoundly; and as gladly, 
To think himself so blessedly to be used; 
Assenting thus within himself: 

"0, I would be! 

A man of God! 

His dispensation unto men! 

O, I will be. 

I am a man; 

In full estate of manly years and manly powers; 

I love my Father and His righteousness; 

The past has been of thoughts: 
They've ripened; 

The future is for acts. 

And so, the present. ' ' 

He stopped before the Voice. 
The strangely different, deeply same, predestined men, 
—Men with epochs standing 'bout them— 
Faced each other to the heart. 
What wonder awed the valley! 
The echoes hushed. 

"Hast thou come to be baptized?" asked one; 
"I am come for that— to be baptized," was answered. 
"O, Jesus, cousin, man, comest thou to me? 
I have need the rather to be baptized of thee; 
Thou bear'st a holiness in thy face that shames me, even me, 
Lonely in strife against a people's sordid sin and low hypoc- 
risy. 
Thou surely dost not come unto repentance?" 
The other answered: 

18 



The Temptation 



"No. Not to repentance. 

I come at this ripe hour 

To dedicate myself to truth and righteousness. 

I give myself to God, for now, and evermore, 

In open espousal; for thus is righteousness fulfilled. 

Let this my baptism signify to you, 

And to the ages. ' ' 

A gladness broke the sadness of the prophet's face; 
A tender joy warmed through the rugged bronze, 
And he smiled; 

—The first for twenty years— 
Then a tornado seemed to shake the man; 
He sobbed a moment like a child. 
Commanding himself, he said with eagerness: 

"Thou art most blessed unto me; 

A thousand suns shine on this day; 

Let it be called the Day of days; 

And thou, the Chief of all God's goodly chosen ones; 

Blessed my hands to be upon thee. 

Let us hasten; delay not longer 

Israel's comforting." 

They turned into the deeper current; 
While the nations looked upon them 
The sinewy arms there lowered the man 
Into his consuming consecration. 

He disappeared. 
Heaven and earth beheld his pledge; 
And the river, rememberer of ancient scenes. 
Flowed quiet for its gladness. 

19 



THE TESTING 



He stood again, all joy; 

Suffused with his lofty oath; 

And lo! the everlasting sky, 

Broke its solemn silences with an hymn 

From the heart of God: 

"This my well beloved Son 
In whom I am well pleased." 

The thunder sweet rang deep throughout 
Dying back to lips that gave it. 
And in the instant 
He looked to see a dove-like form 
Descending on him. 

Beholders saw it too; but could not know 
The quickenings of the man. 

Who may declare the moment! 
That wing of peace had fanned 
Puissant winds into his face. 
And he had breathed; 

O God, what a heart bound! What a life leap! 
The Spirit Holy; Energy of worlds; 
The Masterful God; BEING; 
Rushed upon him— filled him 
With accessions of Omnipotence. 
Power, power, power thrilled from top to tip; 

21 



The Temptation 



Armies marched and navies held the winds 

Well at his inmost word. 

Dominions, principalities and what else, 

The heraldry and might of thrones. 

Took residence and illimitable sway within him; 

Genius 'most insufferable repeating its delicious pledge of 

mastery. 
Aye, he felt, in that new and never ending moment, 
The races of men and their estates 
All cower in his palm. 

Art thou trembling. Earth, 

To know thy life and all its issues 

Thus were held by an untried man? 
Well thou mayst. 

What other of all this lust fed world 
Would e'er have spared thee? 
List: 

He climbed the banks among the multitudes 
That gazed in awestruck wonderment: 
"What and if this should be He, the One long looked for, 
By all the ardent prayers of Israel!!" 
The Nazarite too looked on him going, 
And like one who suddenly sees : 

"The Son of God! The Son of God!" 
As though he did unlade an over-joyous heart. 

A moment since he had rejoiced to hear such words, 
Importing service under God. 
But now! what could they mean, 
With victor chants and salvos 
Ringing on the inner ear? 

22 



The Temptation 



The people looked on him expectant: 
"Surely he would speak to them; 
— Some extraordinary message!" 
As surely too he knew their thinking, 
And assented: "Yes. I must. " 
Upon the impulse and this open invitation, 
He turned. 

hush! O pause! O Israel, listen, deep as death! 
Thy prophets have returned! Three centuries, yea and more, 
Of silence, shame, and culminating woe, 
Are now to speak and speaking swallow up their bitterness! 
Aye, be rich redeemed by one o'er mastering proclaim! 
What should he say! O, what! 

Servant of God? or Conqueror? Quick, 

The people are impatient, face them! 

Alas, he could not and he did not. 
Like a defeated man he dropped his head; 
Without a word there left them. 

Some said: "This country side and bare half world 
Lacks color and augustness; 
He goes up to Jerusalem as fitter place 
For great pronouncement, kingly or the like; 
There he will declare himself. Come." 

But towards the Capital he did not turn. No. 
Eastward rather, eastward towards the desert. 
Some followed thus a little way, then halted, 
Gazed, shook heads, muttered, 'Fool'; 
Then hurried back. 

23 



The Temptation 



But on and on and on he went. 
The dripping waters of his consecration long had dried, 
Yet on and on; apast strange dunes and unnamed rocks, 
Into wild tumultuous secrecy. 

At last, he drew the gaspy breath of torturing contemplation. 
And sighed returning breath into the words: 
"They called me 'Fool'; let be! let be!" 
Then overwrought he dropped beside a pyramidal pile, 
That blackened, mid the disappearing light. 

This be the council chamber, Earth, 
Where thy dearest destinies were cast. 
Call it mean or grand or what thou wilt. 
Stars swung their flames to light it, 
And here the mightiest and best of men 
Met the infinity of Hell and rescued truth; 
Else lost to thee, Earth, forever and forever. 

He lay full stretched upon the sands 
Like one who falls from an all days's fight. 
Torn deep by one of a million blades 
That gnashed and struggled on him. 
He would commit him unto God 
And beg the truce of sleep. 

Day smote him and he started. 
But not to see the day which woke him; 
Nor wheeling vulture, no, nor skulking jackal. 
He saw the Jordan; re-lived its yesterday: 
The multitudes and the avcwal 
— Heaven heard it and responded— 

24 



The Temptation 



The Voice, the power and its problem, 
That drove him headlong here. 

"0 God," he cried, "take back this power unto 
Thyself, 
And slay me! slay me! 
What shall I do, what shall I do, 0, what! 
Yesterday I promised, how solemnly, to do but right. 
Leave me not too much alone, God! 
I would be Thy Son, well pleasing, 
But my people. Thy people. Father, call me, 
Thou know'st they do; 

Their sore hearts yearn upon me for deliverance; 
Let me fulfill their long desire, their life sick hope, 
And free them. 

If I do not in this fulfill their doting prophesies 
They will reject me and to another. 
This must not be, O, must not be, I love them! 
If this power means not to use it thus, O my Father, 
Take it back, O take it back and slay me!" 



Still the power ranged through limb and brain; 
So he prayed for hours and for days. 
These fiercest battlings of his thought 
Annihilating sense and spreading blank the world. 
Weeks waxed and waned with even pitch of sun; 
Still he wandered 'bout the rock. 
Or up and down a nearby hewn out gorge, 
Like a lost hope; 
Like a pity-seeking agony. 

25 



The Temptation 



The sun dropped low. 
He slowly pulled himself from out the gorge 
To the sympathetic black rock, 
Upon whose top the lights were going out. 
All day long, as many days before. 
He had walked and wrestled with the problem: 
"Shall I do the will of God or Israel's? 
Is not Israel's voice the voice of God?" 

He stopped him on the brink; spread far his arms,^ 
Clenched like steel; threw up his face, 
Stark toward the distant stars, and cried: 

"It must be settled, now; it must be. 
I faint, I starve, I die, why? 
I am the Son of God; I have the power; 
This loathesome hesitation, I would despise it! 
Eat, is not this right? 
Eat, you say! who? 

What furies does that word unloosen in me! 
A thousand fangs have slipped their muzzle; 
A month's old hunger gnaws me. 
Eat! turn this useless rock into moist warm cakes, 
And put them in my sickish, dry and bleeding mouth! 
0-0-0-! 

O voice or thought or flatterer or fiend, 
Devil or comforter or saint or what, 
You are of God! 
It must be right to live! I die! 

Stone, you hear the word of the Son of God; be 

Right! My consecration! What? I must do right? 

Hear me, ye earless Powers, all Heavenly, 

26 



The Temptation 



To whom I cried unto despair, what shall I do? 
Why should I live? Why not better die? 
Have I done right? What is right, what. 
If not to help my people? 

Ah, what of Israel if I do not help her! What? 
As I can turn this stone to bread, so all stones; 
I can make poor Palestine one piled up granary, 
For she is rock from end to end. 
I see it, I see it! 
Feed an army for milleniums. 
Bribe all the soldiers of the East 
With my commissairat! 
This would please Israel; aye, delight them, 
Whose swords are ripe with whetting. 

And O, 
The luting praises, and echoes of huzzahings! 
The plushy robes, and languishments of reclinings! 
The splendors, and the low bowed compliments! 
No birth meanness nor penury of purse; 
No wanderings and no castings out; 
Nor pain, nor martyrdom, nor death; no. 
Gold, mere bread will buy me free, free! 
And I could breathe, O I could rest! 
Like ship that drifts, her mooring cast. 
Out, out on spicy winds and slumbrous roll. 
Of some most jeweled sea. How sweet the vision! 
The adulation of trooping Sheba! aye, of Solomon! 
I'll do it! Ho, what power! Stone, be No. 

This must have an end. 
I am baptized to righteousness; 
I must do truth; 0, what is it? 

27 



The Temptation 



Something tells me not to touch this stone. 
food; and fondlings of success; fame! 
Ah, these are but seductions! the sorcery of a lie! 
man of will! Quick! 

These be fair of form but devils in their craft; 
They come upon me! chain me with some softest blandish- 
ment; 
Smile upon me: 'Fail, you'll fail.' Begone! 

'Eat for you must live O noble youth.' Begone! 
'•Man shall not live by bread alone." 

memories of my boyhood, thank thee! 

1 see, I see; Israel lives by right and that alone; 
She might rot in riches; and she would. 

I am for right and God; baptized to them. 
My nation lives by words of God. So I. 
Tempt me no more. I am resolved. Begone. 
I must live? No. I must do right. I will. ' ' 



He stooped and lifted up the stone; 
An hundred feet he hurled it to the gorge; 
It crashed upon the bottom. 
Then he walked to the crag, tremblingly. 

Next day he sat beneath the i*ock 
Mind all awrack. 
Despite his declarations 
It was not settled yet. 
The spirits of evil, the night before 
Had hurried on the winds; 
Had taken stand beside the rock and waited. 

28 



The Temptation 



For thus they range the broad inhabitable world; 

Hanging on the crooked trail of wearied virtue, 

As 'tis said the coward wolf 

Will slink upon the worn out straggler 

Watching for his fall. 

They bade him linger in his exile, 

And not knowing that he yielded, stayed his going. 



Long he sat resolving deep stupendous issues. 
A thought grew out, or did it breathe, 
Or pluck a dulcet string to say: 

"O Thou young man. 
Why waste thee here, or keep thee by these painful prayers, 
One hour longer from the golden goal 
Which any mortal heart would seize upon. 
Thine the prime of hale young years; 
Thy form of knightly mould; 

Thy countenance of thrice the comeliness and kingliness 
Of thy heroed sire, David. 
Thou hast prowess, statescraft, and mysterious 
Holdings over men; genius shaming all the great." 



He leaped inflamed: 
"What shall I do; O God, 0! 
If I but stir the strength that's in me, 
The world is mine; 

Hannibal, Caesar, or the Macedonian Prince, 
Would be but whiffling straws; 
I could toss them to the winds with a little laugh. 

29 



The Temptation 



Power, power pours along my veins in monarchies, 

Horsed on the tides of war; 

My hand tingles to grasp the sword. 

O, let me un-hell myself; 

Let me fight Rome. 

Let me be what my people most desire; 

Let me do what they most expect, O Father! 

Cannot I do Thy will 

And walk with large majorities? 

Or must I always be despised of men, 

Eking out minorities? 

Piecing life with contemptuous pity. 

Black hate of men, ribald popularity, 

And rags of small approval, 

All patched with prayers, to do thy will? 

O God, but this is terrible! 
When a single stroke of this arm thou'st nerved. 
Would shake me off these nesting scoffs. 
And robe me in nobility. 
O my Father, let me, let me, but this once! 
Let me lead Israel for a single month! 
Let me but teach this strutting world and hateful death. 
How might I have despised them. 
O Father, Father, for a single day!" 

But the gaunt air ate his words; 

The man stood there alone. 



"How easy, " urged the voice, 
"Thou Son of God, 
Invulnerable with power! Go to holy city 

30 



The Temptation 



With faithful millions there attending; 

Before the eyes of thronging Israel, 

Cast thyself from off the pinnacle 

That strikes the sky above our sacred temple. 

Leap down upon the very pavements; or better still, 

Defy the Cedron's terrible abyss. 

He'll give His angels charge to bear thee up, 

Lest thou strike against its stones. 

The people say thou 'It come in some such way: 
Dropping from out the clouds, 
Or yielded from the amazing earth. 
They'll say, 'Tis He, for so was He to come. ' 
If thus thou'lt not consent, 'twill be, 
'You are but the son of Joseph; 
When Messiah cometh we know not whence He is. ' 

Truly this is what they'll say." 



"Now hearken, and thou'lt capture people, 
Most willing to be captured: 
Spring thus into their appaling midst, 
Bearing warrant in the act 

That swords and spears will blunt and shatter on thee; 
All the more, the fiercer they are driven; 
This proof before their eyes. 

Proclaim thyself; spread out the nation's mighty banners; 
Impart thy steel unto thy followers; 
And thundering at thy heels thou'lt have. 
The only Invincibles of history. 

Thou'lt fling them 'cross the strangling floods, 

Wilt sport with pestilence and contagion, 

31 



The Temptation 



Sleep with wolfish nights of Germany, 
Or cool the days of Egypt with thine imperturbable 
brows. 

Thy people call thee, up, O man! 

Thine over-ridden, crushed and hooted people, 

Call to thee for vengeance! Heed. 

Fling the furious nation full afield; 

Thrash the lands with the hail of war, 

Till the last Roman is beaten down; 

Till the Godless Capital herself, struck by thy whirlwinds. 

Yields her massy and conceited walls, 

Borne in to the very throne." 



As these fierce promptings rallied on his ear 
You had seen the man— a living god of battles— 
His eyes a-gleam like spear shots 
O'er the waste; 
His corded, half clenched hand 
Seeming to hold in leash the tugging furies of the world. 

The Spirit of war himself, 
Walking on slaughter fields, for pleasant air, 
Turned pale-sick within his gashed and scar-seamed coat, 
To feel through the stricken air, 
The resolute broodings of this man of Power; 
Intent upon his life's employment. 

As now he sat repeating one by one the baiting 
words. 
He did not deem how near that wasting wretch. 
Called by men Ambition he was sitting. 

32 



The Temptation 



"0 God," he cried, "0 let me do it! 
O Father, answer, answer, wilst thou not?" 

Again the silence of the desert mocked him. 

"0," went on the murmuring, "what grander work 
In all the casket catalogue of deeds? 
What a privilege, free a nation! 
Song and story tells of nothing nobler. 
What more glorious! 'Tis thy duty, duty! 
Restore God's chosen, rebuild His worship, 
Set again the law, 
And strengthen all the holy gates of God's Jerusalem. 

This the pious, the lauded work 

Of Israel's greatest prophets. " 

Some voice within quick answered, "—true, most 
true." 

"Content thyself with present righteousness, 
Nor seek to be the better of Moses or Elias; 
Come, O youth, be as they, and children's children 
Glad will speak thy name in reverent salutations. 
Right sounds well, but wait; 'tis not time. 
The sword's the only tongue of kings. Take it. 
The parties all will praise thee in success. 
O noble youth, 

'Only do what the many say 

Only be what the many will 

Only dare what is popular 

And every wish will straight fulfil. ' ' ' 

33 



The Temptation 



"But right! O, this is horrid demonry! 
What of right and truth and God? 
Where are they? Am I dazed? 
Some exhalation pours its heavy odors through the air! 

man of me! Flee this place, fly! 
The top! the hill-top! For thy life!" 

Like a hunted soul he sprang, up and up the hill, 
That sloped from out the gorge. 
"O God," he cried again, "help me be true! 

1 am thy son; I'd do Thy will. 

'Tis hard! O hard! help me, Father! 

Keep this troop of fairest foulest Hell, off me. 

Destroy their chanting preludes, to all that men call great; 

They rob me now of my very self, 

hear their tangling minstrelsy, 

'Thou best and mightiest Son of David, 
Be thou a blessed nation's hands; 
Take thou the sword and harp of David, 
Break for us the heathen bands. ' 

1 will, I will, I ! No. what? 

On, to the very top, for breath! 
They bar my way. 'Yield, ' they cry. 

I'll not; I'm for top— there's right, there's God. 
Away! your tinseled beauty is but warted ugliness. 
I do not yield, 0-0-0-0! 

'Thou shalt not tempt the Lord, thy God. ' 
He has not sent me for reprisals nor for vengeance; 
But to hear the groans of wronged men and champion them; 
To witness for the truth. I see, I see! 0—0 
No! Yes. Hear me for the last, 
I die, but I do not yield. The right, the right!" 

34 



The Temptation 



At the one word 'die' the air grew pure; 

And evening threw about the hill pervasive majesty. 

He gained the crest with toil, 
There sank in prayer: 

"Why dost thou leave me so alone, dear Father? 
But I thank Thee they are gone. 
Gracious are these upper worlds; 
Keep me Thy son. Good night. ' ' 



He slept where he had prayed, quite undisturbed, 
Though a panther howled from out the valley. 
Deep the sleep but not too deep for dreams. 
They bear him far, afar; 

Upon a mountain height exceeding the peaks of Palestine 
The chariot halted viewless steeds. 

He never was more awake. 
Some world-lord stood beside him, 
Pointing o'er the realms below: 
The imperial city and her marbled magnificence; 
Her fluttering eagles, and her flatterers 
Bending down before her thronely trappings; 
He saw from pillared west to swinging gates of dawn; 
All this and nations yet unclaimed; 
Glory, clamor, gold, and store. 
More than human heart would dare to wish upon. 

"All this be thine, noble youth, 
If thou'lt do as I desire: 
Have a patriotism like thy Fathers, 
Wait a little for right to grow; 

35 



The Temptation 



Give schooling in godliness some later time, 
(Thou'lt hardly find the people ready now) 
Be wise with wisdom from this very world, 
And it is thine. 

Thou hast the power fight. 

Remember thou can'st make them ride the battering rams, 
And feed them without stint." 

At the word he was up. 
Night burned before into day. 

"I had not seen it all before," cried he; 
"0, splendors here surround me! 
Ye spreading monarchies and crystal glories, come! 
Wealth unbosom all thy gems, 
Ye drawn myriads and camping hosts. 
Lift up my name in thunderous acclamation, 
'Master of the World, Great Hail!' 
And so salute me continents and rolling seas between, now 

and evermore; 
Blow into my ears ye according promises 
Of health, pleasure, and impossible achievement! 
I live! I live! ten thousand kings, I live! 
I'll do it! now. I will. 
Without a word I leave you, wind-bit hill. 

And rock of grief. I go to 

Where? What? What have I done! 

Yielded again for a single instant, 

To the thought I would were dead forever! 

what will help me, if they come again? 

1 would do right! I am His son. help me. Father! 

36 



The Temptation 

But I cannot hear Him. Father! No, He does not hear. 

Am I alone! No Father here. 

And I must face this warm, rich world alone. What! 

what? 
I must champion Right alone or else she dies, insulted unto 

death,-0-0-0!" 

He fell; 

His face upon his arms and wept. 

"0 Mother, Mother!" cried his agony; 
"Mother, in whose white bosom the sword still quivers, 

help me! Save me! Quick, quick, what must I do?" 

It comes, it comes, it comes. 

Thy blessed face and blessed voice, 
" 'Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God 
Him only shalt thou serve; not the world.' 
I'll do so; now. Stay with me, mother. 
I'll serve my God with all of life. 
Away, you purchasable stuffs, you baubles! 
Get thee hence, thou Satan! 
Quit me, ye assailing contemplations! 

1 am for God, for truth and righteousness; 

Yea, though ye slay me. Whatever else and for the last, 

begone ! 
Here, God possess me; I worship Thee alone. 
Command, I freely say Thy will be done. It must be. " 

And as he spoke he slept, wearied unto death; 

His sleep was peace. 

37 



The Temptation 



Turn here thy face again, 0, Earth! 
And art thou stricken, dread sick, and pale, 
Nor durst to ask if it be over, all over, 
—This Hell and Heaven tumult that tears the man— 
This death grapple 'twixt Mammon and the Truth? 
Aye, rest thee, Earth, 'tis mostly over; 
Sometimes, 'tis true, in after days. 
He heard the callings of the waste; 
But got him to the mountain and to prayer. 

There found saving altitudes. 

Aye, rest thee, Earth; refreshing eras here arise, 
And thou art saved: 
From ranking values named in gold; 
From morals coined within the mint; 
From patriotism made of prejudice; 
From right but regnant by success; 
From arguments made strong by mere prosperity; 
From logic urged by fluent cowardice; 
From fear whose inspiration is the one word "fail;" 
From majorities justified but by their noise; 

From these and from their dastard kind, 

O Earth, thou hast been saved. 
The world that held this kind of speech is overcome forever. 
No more repeat the lie that virtue can be bought. 

There is a spiritual world; 

There is a faith; 

There is a God. 
These three have triumph; aye, and glory; 
Yea, are given state and progress through the world, 

38 



The Temptation 



Albeit it begins, 

Within the silent yonder of the desert. 

For listen, Earth! listen! 
And thou my harp renew thy fires; 
wake thee all thy sleeping music! 

wake! burst forth! All song, burst forth! 
Burst into Creation's love and grander, grander! 
Wake and soar and higher, higher. 

Till thy bleeding strains are lifted, 
Lifted by the throne-like lyres 
To the Chorus universal. 

Listen, Earth: His sleep was peace. 
A peace that, like a throng of angels 
Softly treading and intent. 
Bended o'er him; soothed him strong. 
As from his restful mat he roused him; 
Woke to subtlest exaltations; 
As though visions breathed about him 
And all the air was Presence of his God. 
He sensed eternity and had faith; 
Assurance growing firmer than the hills beneath him, 

Of the sovereignty of right; 
Of right's most rare and more than regal splendor; 
Of goodness evermore; of purpose infinite; 
Meaning glorified the rapt and rugged mysteries 
Of love and sacrifice. What views of vaster destiny! 

"O God, O God, God, I thank thee! 
How blessed is this place! 
How blessed now this power; 

1 see, I see Thy perfect ways! the TRUTH!! 

39 



The Temptation 



Divine relationship— of each to each and each to all- 
God's largest thought for man. DESIGN, 
Wherein Spirit, evermore with prayer. 
Holds reign o'er all the world of sense, 
And mounts material things. 
I hear, I see Thy wondrous Word, Thy Truth; 
Creation's morning proclamation— One decree. 
Wherein Spirit, evermore with love, 

Effaces Self; 
Infuses all with one intent 

—To bring forth God and fix His righteousness. 
I see, I see! Mankind shall be redeemed! 
Redeemed!! Bought back to truth, redeemed!!!" 

"I will v/itness for the truth. 
And they will hear. 
I will witness for the truth 

Unto whatever end; 
Every wrong will be rebuked 
Every right I will defend. 
And they will hear the truth, 
Those of the truth. 

The good and honest hearts, will hear. 
Spirit to the spiritual will be eloquent of power. 
They too will overcome the world, 
As I have overcome. 

And trample hell. 
The world shall be redeemed! 
They too will glory in the right and God; 
Have faith, be free, and dare. 
Man shall be redeemed! 

40 



The Temptation 



They too will love and die of love. 

Blood of mine and theirs shall save; 

O thus and only thus, by blood, 

Shall paths be laid from human hearts to the throne of God. 

The world shall be redeemed— redeemed!! 

Evening shall join the mom in noon's high sky, 

And night will be forgot; 

Toil be turned to conquest; 

Every groan shall rise a lyric note. 

And Thou, O God, shall be the master thought of Man, 

And men sublime. 
Love (called in Heaven esteeming others more than self) 
Will bear her scepter through the world. 
And Eden here shall strike again her very harmony. 

To this I am annointed; 

Dying thus will be a joy; 

I am content. ' ' 



The calm, cathedral morning-night 
Stood ready to welcome 
From the east the rolling morn. 
He breathed and breathed and breathed again 
Delicious draughts of the big, cool air; 
Advanced a pace or more to the very top; 
The sun leaped up o'er all and it was day. 
Abundant vigor and bounding blood 
Edged keenest hunger in him; 
Seating himself he freely took a stone: 

"Father, I thank thee for this bread; 
'Twill help me do Thy will. My life is Thine; 

41 



The Temptation 



0, nourish it! It seems so good to eat; I thank Thee. 

Let this be the bread of life, yea, through me, unto all the 

world; 
And this puissant hand, 

A helping hand to all Thy needy ones. Amen." 
And then he ate. 



Again he walked the Jordan's double bank, 
Amid the multitudes; the giant prophet 
Saw him, and strangely moved, 
Raised at once this strangest welcome— strange above the 

languages of all mankind: 
"Behold the Lamb of God; 
That taketh away the sin of the world!" 



He spoke to them, now; and gracious were His words; 
They marveled; loved; and exclaimed aside, "O whence!" 



What wonder Earth 
Now laid within my hands her crown; 
'Twas rich throughout; but here within the deepest part 
There gleamed too brightly to be hid 
Three blood red drops, 

That Earth had plucked from off her bosom; 
From above her very heart. 

Where they had glowed for aye, denied to all— save One; 
Berries they were of buds called "love undying." 
Steadfastly she looked at me 

42 



The Temptation 



As one in solemn promise does; 

And then like one adorned, 

She turned and majestical walked away. 

The wreath was in my hands and lo! 'twas not. 

Instead an incense only; spiritual exhalations, 

Whose perfume on the air was redolent of voices, saying: 

"He loved me best; 

He loved me best by loving truth. 

He is my choice; for kingliest of them all, 

Is the genius to do right. I see it. 

I too will bear this selfsame witness, 

Bear it to whatever end. 

God forgive, forgive and help me! 

The crown I leave is everlasting adoration." 



And she had gone I knew, 
Had gone a-desertward. 



The tale is done; I am alone. 
And thou, my harp, must cease thy singing. 
O, how I dread it, 
When thy silence settles round me! 



If in this transcendent venture 

I have failed thee noble harp, 

then alas! And Christ forgive me! 

Comfort me O harp of mine! 

Tell me I again may call thee 

43 



The Temptation 

For God's grand Himalayan discourse. 

Tell me I again may set thee 

For plain truth's majestic measure. 

Comfort me harp of mine! 

Say my heart was strong of daring, 

Winging with thy full ambition, 

Joying in thy high careering. 

O thus it should be and content me. 

For well I know we've far out themed them; themed 

them all. 
Never harp so large a challenge. 
O forgive me, do forgive me. 
If I've but pitched thee to out rival 
All the throbbing harps of Earth; 
Leave thee yearning: passions burning 
And eternal in thy breast. 
And I grieve if thou must wait 
Through another dragging age, 
For the touch to loosen from thee 
Music fit for earth's redemption. 
Music fit for spirit's triumph. 



I have loved thee, noble harp; 
And, O my heart! it dreads thy going. 
Still this much to thee I promise: 
If thy God shall place thee elsewhere; 
(Give thee to another's keeping 
In whose heart are battle shoutings 
For the simple, candid right, 
In whose heart are clearer visions 

44 



The Temptation 



Of this same fidelity;) 

When such hands shall ring from forth thee 

All thy heart's deep wealth of BEING, 

Thy full swell, thy diapason, 

Wherein all other songs have voices, 

I shall be most happy and content. 



So you leave me noble lyre; 
So I take my hands from off thee; 
See no tears nor feel this hope-ache; 
Quickly go and O farewell; 
Say it may not be forever. 

O thou rapture, O thou mystic, thou desire! 

O thou ecstacy, thou diviner, thou swift fire! 

Thou life attainer! Thou God acclaimer! 

Hail of Divinities! 

Voice of the Trinities! 

Muse of mine, farewell, farewell! 

0, harp of mine, forbidden to stay longer! 

Fare thee well! Farewell! 



45 



THE CHRISTMAS OF THE ARTS 

The Wise men came. 
They bent and gazed and gazed 

Into the little baby's nest; 
Gazing still they shook grey heads 

In solemn wonder. 
Nor stayed they in their adoration 
Till they had broken 'round the child 

A wealth of gold and frankincense and myrrh. 

Then they went— 
Went as though they must not— 
And pausing on the awesome threshold 

Of the cave, 
They did not see there entering past their sides'' 

Four tall, and mountain chested, 
Stately forms. 

Not even the mother saw; 

Nor did she hear them, coming. 
Directly they were grouped about the manger; 
They gazed with deep eyes. 

All kindliness— like spheres of light. 
Then, as they stood there yearning o'er him, 
The child smiled— a baby smile- 
As though the gauzy loveliness of some sweet dream. 

Half trailing on the lips 

Had brushed the dimples into life 
47 



The Christmas of The Arts 

The smile smote into the hearts of the noble Four. 
With low-bowed heads they slowly turned, 

And slowly went— as if in grief- 
Murmuring— but noteless to the human ear, 

"O, must it be!— for us— O no!" 
******* 

Calvary is dusk-dark; 

Calvary is desert-still. 
All the more, because around it 

Had surged, of late, 
A million-peopled multitude. 

The Four, treading down the noiseless air, 
Draw near, and pause upon the spot. 

They search the ground; 

A moment more and 

It is whispered, "Here." 
At the word, with pious care, 
They gather 'bout a Httle pool of baking blood. 

Three sought seats on stones; 
The fourth, made strong by duty, stood. 
But all alike looked tensely down upon the earth. 
As were that small discolored spot, 

A precious spot. 

Like unto a world of hope. 

Soon the nearer sister lifted up 
A pallid, strong, sweet face; 
Uttered a corded cry of pain:— 
"O, must it be?" 
With the quickness of distress 

48 



The Christmas of The Arts 

She drew from her full robes 
A harp. 

She passionately swept the strings; 
But they were dead— dead— dull and hopeless. 

"Harp of mine, why, O wake!" 
And she clasped it to her bosom; kissed it; 
Then again she plucked and swept the strings. 
But no— the cords were dead. 

Nor availed it— that penetrating prayer. 
Cast through mists of tears to Heaven. 
With awesome sorrow 
She sought the brother 
Standing o'er her; 
She said all brokenly, 
"Must it be, but-by His blood?" 
Swift came the answer, 
"But by His blood." 
Softly her hand went down. 
Softly she sought the spot. 
Her shame all gone in earnestness 
She firmly pressed the blood. 
Again she smote the strings 
With fingers crimson tipped. 
And lo! there came such music through the harp, 
The majestic spirit bowed her head upon it 

And was still— with joys too great. 

The kindred spirits 

Wondering on their sister 
Looked up, as if from doom : 

"Must we— we, too? 0, no!" 
49 



The Christmas of The Arts 

Then they, too, drew. 

The one a brush; 

The other a white 

Unlettered scroll. 
From their flowing folds. 
But the brush was a wooden thing; 
And the scroll was cold 

Beneath the soft tracery 

Of the hand upon it. 
In prayer that pierced the worlds 
They sought some rescue 
From the too dear trespass upon the blood— 

As they fondly deemed. 
Driven, they turned to their brother's face. 
He replied quite sternly, 

"Touch the blood." 
With lowly heads, they firmly pressed; 
The reddened fingers held the brush. 
Behold! It quivered like a living thing 

Within the hand. 
The fire dye touched the scroll. 
What wonder! A flame leaped; 

It raced the page, 

Scorching into lines of gold 

The refrains of poesy. 
Then as those who are over-blessed, 
They bowed upon their fulfilled prayers. 

Alone he stood— towering, 
And looked upon them. 
He cast his eyes wide 'round: 

50 



The Christmas of The Arts 

"Must I too?" 

He cried, childlike, now; 
And the profound Universe answered 
With its midnight voice: 

"The blood." 

His lips were lead— they, too, were dead— 
Though tears made silver courses on his cheeks. 
He, last of all, bowed down; 
He pressed the blood; 

He stood again; 

Stretched free his arms; 
He fully placed upon his lips 
The fingers, that had touched the life. 

And at the touch, 

A warmer current 

From his very heart 

Ran through them. 

There gathered to his lips 

The dews of eloquence- 
Speech— truth— 

A heraldry of God. 
"O Christ," he cried, "too much, too much!" 
And gathering deep his mantle to his face 
He joined the worship of his mates: 

Four still, white figures 

'Round the blood. 



51 



